


One of Those Days

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 10:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Seb wants to propose to Molly on a day that nothing goes right.





	One of Those Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> afteriwake sent me a prompt -- "I wish you would write Sebolly with a proposal that goes totally wrong!"

It was supposed to be the most important day of Sebastian Moran’s life. Instead, it started badly then quickly got worse.

He woke that morning to a bedroom full of sunlight, far too much to be early morning, when he normally woke up. One glance at his alarm clock told him two things – he hadn’t set it the night before, and he was late. Very late.

Forgetting about the Tube strike was Seb’s next mistake. He was halfway to the nondescript office building he worked out of before he was able to catch a cab. Mycroft was less than thrilled by his late arrival and proceeded to give him an assignment Seb was certain doubled as a punishment – tailing the younger Holmes for a week, getting him out of trouble whenever necessary.

Sitting in a parked government sedan outside of 221B Baker Street, he was contemplating running into Speedy’s when his mobile chirped.

**I’m sorry but I have to cancel our lunch date. Double homicide. Molly**

Seb groaned quietly.

**I was about to grab us some sandwiches. What about dinner? Seb**

**Dinner’s still on unless there’s another murder. Molly**

**Right. Miss you. Seb**

**I miss you too. I love you. Molly.**

**Love you too. Seb**

He spent the next hour cursing Fate, murderers, the Holmes brothers, and the world in general.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, but just before Molly would normally arrive home, Sherlock left Baker Street on foot. Grumbling, Seb got out of the car and followed him.

That’s when it started pouring.

Seb didn’t have his umbrella and it had been too warm lately for his jacket.

A soaked assassin-turned-babysitter is nothing to laugh at, but he got the feeling Mycroft was anyway as he watched from the network of security cameras. Seb flipped the bird at the next camera.

He had to come out of the shadows to save Sherlock and Watson from the Russian mobsters they’d gone after, but at least Sherlock didn’t shoot him on sight, though that was mainly because Watson had the gun. The rescue did mean he didn’t get home until after three in the morning.

Molly was asleep in their bed, her arms wrapped around his pillow. Stripping off his still-damp clothes, he moved to the bed only to hear Toby yowl as he accidentally stepped on the cat’s tail. The cat ran from the room as Molly sat up, blinking sleepily.

“You’re in one piece?” she asked, looking him over.

“Yeah, though I can’t say the same about the other guys.” He climbed into bed and she gave him his pillow, which he put behind him. “Sherlock and Watson have survived another case.”

She gently pushed him back then laid her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. “Mycroft likes you – he wouldn’t trust Sherlock’s safety to just anyone.”

“Just anyone who gets on his bad side.”

“Seb…”

“I had plans for tonight,” he muttered.

“Oh? What kind of plans?” She yawned softly.

“Plans that can wait for some other time,” Seb murmured. “Go back to sleep, Molly.”

“Do those plans of yours have anything to do with the ring box in the drawer of your nightstand?”

He groaned quietly. “You’ve been snooping.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Um, maybe a little.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I didn’t look, I swear.” She smiled at him sweetly. “Please, Seb?”

Groaning louder, he sat up then leaned over to retrieve the black velvet ring box from the nightstand. When he turned back to Molly, she was already holding out her left hand to him.

Seb smirked. “You’re supposed to say yes first.”

“Then ask already,” she said, grinning.

He cleared his throat, suddenly mindful of a lump in it. “Margaret Anne Hooper, you’ve turned my life inside-out and upside-down, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Will you marry me, my love?”

Her smile could light up the London Eye. “Yes!”


End file.
